Duncan
Google
Casa Juan Pedro. No tablecloths, no pretense, just the sea, a grill, and people who know exactly what the hell they’re doing.
The king prawns? Charred just enough to taste like they crawled straight out of the ocean and into the fire. Oysters, cold, briny punches to the face. Squid so tender it practically apologized as you chewed. And the tuna tartare? Clean, sharp, alive. Like the ocean, diced.
Washed it all down with Basque cider, funky, wild, beautiful. Like the region itself. Then a chocolate mousse that didn’t try too hard, because it didn’t need to.
This is how it’s done. No bull, No ego. Just the kind of meal you remember when you’re staring down your last days, hoping you did something right.